


Stars Align

by Starics_Soul_Garden



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universes, F/M, Ghosts, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kidnapping, POV Multiple, Robots, Undertale aus, Violence, a fanfiction of a fanfiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 10:09:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16532528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starics_Soul_Garden/pseuds/Starics_Soul_Garden
Summary: Based off of the Metta-centric fanfiction, "The Constellation", by user Lady_R. Go read theirs first if you can, I never could have made this without their inspiration, and it puts mine in much better context. This work follows the same storyline of Mettatons across multiple universes being kidnapped, and being forced to work together to escape. However, this retelling adds the original character Staric in the mix. Staric is creative, crazy, and just a bit clumsy, and her alternate universe selves are no exception. Can 17 robots (and one ghost) fair better than 9?





	Stars Align

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Constellation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10024457) by [Lady_R](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_R/pseuds/Lady_R). 



Starfell

“Metta? Where the fork are you?” I shouted, stomping through the apartment.  
I’d been searching for Mettaton al morning. He wasn’t in his dressing room, which is where he locked himself away when he wanted to be alone. Not in the closet, either, which was typically his second choice.  
Failing to find him in his apartment, I entered the elevator down the hall and rode it down to the deserted MTT resort. It was completely desolate, save for Burgerpants. I entered the burger emporium, ready to interrogate.  
“Have you seen Mettaton?” I asked, leaning against the grimy countertop.  
Burgerpants pulled the cigar he was sucking on from his mouth.  
“I think he left this morning.” rasped the alleycat.  
“Did you see where he left?”  
“Sorry, too busy working to babysit my own boss.”  
I narrowed my eyes. The only thing Burgerpants was working on was a box of cigars.  
“Good gourd.” I mumbled, exiting the resort.  
Once outside, I pulled out my flip phone and dialed Papyrus. I knew that Mettaton sometimes visited the sadistic skeleton, for better or worse.  
The phone rang a few times before he picked up.  
“WHO IS THIS?” Papyrus barked from the other end.  
“Tis me, Staric.” I replied.  
“YOU’RE THAT OTHER ROBOT, RIGHT? FRIEND OF THAT ELECTRIC CRYBABY CALLED METTATON?”  
“No, I’m a dog.” I spat sarcastically. “Speaking of Metta, that’s exactly what I’m calling about. Have you seen him anywhere?”  
“WHAT DO YOU THINK THIS IS? SOME KIND OF HOTFUL HELPLINE?” the skeleton huffed. I grew impatient, starting to walk around in circles. I heard Papyrus grumble on the other end.  
“FINE. HE’S HERE. JUST COME TO MY PLACE AND YOU CAN GET HIM.”  
………………………………………………………………………………………..  
After trudging through the humidity of Hotland and Waterfall’s rains, I managed to arrive at Snowdin. Sans and Papyrus stood in front of their shambled house, their grins wide and dark.  
“Okay guys,” I said as I approached, “give him back. I don’t want him with you. I don’t like the way you treat him.”  
Papyrus glared at me, turning his heavy bone club slowly. It was cracked, no doubt from slamming into many innocent victims in the past.  
“OH, SO HIS MOMMY CAME TO PICK HIM UP. YOU JUST CAN’T WAIT TO GET YOUR LITTLE SWEETHEART BACK.”  
“Yeah, what the boss said.” Sans chimed in.  
“Fork off.” I hissed, clenching my fist. I struggled to properly tuck in my sixth finger on each hand. Alphys had never been content with giving her creations a normal amount of features. “Just tell me where he is, Papyrus.”  
“WHAT’S IN IT FOR ME?” the prideful skeleton sneered.  
Without thinking, I threw my fist into his jawbone, startling him with the loud crack his teeth made as the slammed together. Sans flinched and sank into his brother’s shadow.  
Fork.  
I stared at my hand, hoping Mettaton hadn’t been looking out the window. The last time I’d assaulted Papyrus, I’d been defending the celebrity. Seeing me act so violently gave him an empty look in his eyes. Seeing that expression made me empty, too.  
I took deep, ragged breaths. Papyrus narrowed his eye sockets, rubbing his battered chin indignantly.  
“SANS, WE BEST NOT KEEP HER WAITING.”  
…………………………………………………………………………………………..  
“He’s in here.” Sans said, leading me into the house.  
“Where?” I asked, looking around the drab space. The room was sparsely decorated with gaudy shades of red and green. Mettaton was not in sight.  
“HERE!” Papyrus screeched, grabbing my shoulders.I thrashed around, managing to land a few kicks. Sans retaliated, kicking me in the shins.  
The brothers shoved me into a closet. My face collided with the wall, smothering me. I screamed as hard as I could, trying to push the boneheads off of me long enough to escape my vessel. Before I could manage, I felt something hard and heavy hit my back. The bone club?  
I was dealt another blow to my back. I struggled, but couldn’t prevent the third attack that landed itself on the back of my skull.  
I sank to the floor, clutching my head. The attacks kept showering upon me relentlessly. Despite desperate attempts at electrocuting the skeletons, or even just kicking them, I couldn’t stop the onslaught. I didn’t have the element of surprise or safety in numbers like they did.  
I caved in fairly quickly. All I could bring myself to do was lay limp in the corner. The door clicked shut, and in my last conscious moments I heard the duo bickering.  
“SO, SHOULD WE SELL THIS ONE FOR SPAGHETTI?”  
“Mustard never hurt anybody.”  
“BUT WE SOLD METTATON FOR MUSTARD!”  
“Hmm...let’s split it halfway, bro.”

Starswap  
I awkwardly ran towards the elevator, shoving my phone into my pocket. Just seconds before I’d received a text calling for an emergency art club meeting.I only had a minute left before I was late. I was always late, and always apologizing for it. I guess that’s why they call me So Starry. It was a lousy play on words, but I deserved the nickname.  
Frantically, I charged towards a gap in the ground. The steam vent chugged to life just in time, releasing an explosion of vapors that sent me careening over the chasm. I crashed into the ground on the other side, loose papers and pencils spilling everywhere. My hat fluttered away with them, but I managed to snatch it before it fell into the lava-filled abyss.  
I scrambled to pick everything up.  
“I should really get a backpack.” I muttered to myself as I scooted towards the elevator. I pushed the button, tapping my foot impatiently as I waited for the doors to open. I ran in and was surprised to see a few other people riding with me. They looked a lot like humans and were dressed in a visually interesting green camouflage pattern. I wondered if they’d pose for a drawing or two. People really appreciate being given the drawings that I don’t mess up.  
“Are you new to the art club? Or are you headed someplace else?” I asked, swishing my tail from side to side.  
“Oh, we’re headed someplace else. And you’re coming too.” one of them growled.  
It was just then that I realized they were both holding guns.

 

Starkeep

I stared at the blank easel, unsure of what to create. I balanced my palette on one arm, mixing a few paints together. They formed a delicate lavender too pretty not to preserve. I wet the paintbrush with it and laid down a streak across the canvas.  
“Purple, the color of royalty.” I sighed.  
Ever since I’d been trapped in my favorite period drama video game, Underkeep, I struggled to fit in as a modern day woman in the 1840s. The day before, for instance, I had described Gran Maestro Napstablook’s latest composition as a “sick beat” and elicited quite the stare. Not even four years of living in this environment proved enough to break certain habits, it seemed.  
The only job I’d been able to garner for myself, besides a housewife, was the royal artist. Turns out, I accidentally invented manga. Unfortunately, I couldn’t invent colored pencils or markers, so I had to make do with paint. King Mettaton liked my sketches of him, but requested that his next portrait be in color.  
So there I was, experimenting with different colors and brushes so I would not make a fool of myself in front of His Majesty. Not only would I be risking my pride, but possibly my entire career as an artist.  
It would be worth it, though. Oh, how he smiled when I completed a painting in his likeness! Despite his obnoxious attitude, I’d fallen for the king. During the weekly portrait sessions I had with Mettaton (remember, selfies haven’t been invented yet) I’d grown closer to him, and him to me. Not that he’d let anyone know about it; as far as the kingdom was concerned, Mettaton was a single pringle.  
Out of nowhere there was a knock on the door. I leaped, dropping my palette and knocking over several jars of paint. My skirts--yes, skirts in the plural--were quickly starting to look like a skittles commercial. I picked up a rag and rubbed at some of the more severe smudges, to no avail.  
“Yes?” I replied, opening the creaky door. On the other side was a Final Froggit, dressed in the finest messenger’s clothes. It was obvious that only the richest of men could afford to dress their servant in this way.  
They handed me a letter sealed with red wax before bouncing off into the cobblestone streets.  
Puzzled, I opened the letter and pulled out a crisp length of smooth parchment. There was a message written inside, penned in fine, looping calligraphy.  
“As an order of the highest sort, Court Artiste Staric Melancholy Zipperbel is hereby commanded by His Graceful and Elegantly Dazzling Majesty, King Mettaton, to be summoned to the throne room immediately, with no hesitation whatsoever.” I read aloud, and then added, “That’s one fancy sentence. I wonder why he wants me.”  
I folded the letter and placed it back in the envelope. Several scenarios ran through my mind, and I must admit, most of them were romantic. How could you blame me? Every girl dreams of being swept off her feet by royalty.  
I rushed outside. Lifting my skirts so the freshly fallen snow wouldn’t wet them. I heard one supposed gentleman make a snappy remark about my ankles. I ignored him, spotting a carriage. It’s driver was concealed under a familiar dark robe.  
“Riverperson? You drive a carriage now?” I asked.  
“The river is frozen over today, so I to put aside my boat for a little while.” they explained.  
“Can you take me to the king’s castle? It’s kind of urgent.” I asked, stepping into the carriage.  
“Sure thing. Tra la la…”  
It was then that I noticed there was no horse pulling the carriage. That was a bit of a dissapointment. However, the vehicle still managed to take off at a breakneck speed. I looked out the window and saw that the carriage had sprouted wooden dog feet and was literally running towards my destination.  
“Tra la la. Beware the man dressed in green.” the riverperson mused as they urged the carriage along.  
……………………………………………………………………………………………....  
We came skidding to a stop in front of the lavish castle. The building had many eccentric attachments and was dusted in golden glitter.  
“Thank you for your service.” I said briefly to the Riverperson, tipping them with a few golden coins.  
“Why, thank you too.” they said, tossing the coins into a carved dog head on the front of the carriage. It morphed to life and ate them enthusiastically.  
I turned away and approached the castle, slightly weirded out by the surreal ride. Two guardsmen blocked the entrance, but lowered their weapons when I showed them the envelope with its distinct royal seal.  
“Your Majesty! It is I, Staric, and I most humbly grant your regal request.” I called out as I entered the castle. Not receiving a response, I concluded that he must not have heard me from his throne room. I turned and twisted through the glamorous halls until I found myself in a room carpeted with golden flowers. Their soft petaled heads greeted me cheerfully. The throne glistened alongside the buttery plants, but it was empty.  
“Your Royal Highness, where are you?” I called out, looking the room over. No answer. Maybe I was early? If it was a date he wanted me for, then Mettaton was probably still preening like a pretty peacock in his chambers.  
I exited the throne room, taking a left to find the grand staircase that led to his quarters. I ran my hands along the milky marble bannister and began to climb. It took me longer than I’d like to admit to reach the top, but I made it to his door. I knocked politely on the dark wood and waited to be let in. The voice on the other side was a man’s, but it wasn’t Mettaton’s. Perhaps it was a servant?  
“Come in.” it said flatly.  
I did as requested and entered. The spacious room large enough to hold the king’s ego was instead filled with military men in green suits.  
They looked...modern?  
A pillowcase was thrust over my head. Hands grabbed my shoulders and stomach, forcing me to the ground. I tried to kick but my countless layers of stuffy clothing confined me. My telekinesis went haywire, and more than once I heard someone yell as they were hit with something expensive.  
“This one’s a little bitch.” one of the men said.  
I tried to scream, but my mouth quickly filled with ectoplasm. The liquid was soupy and bright green. It dripped from my eyes as well. My little magic fit had taken its toll. I writhed in protest, but then something heavy smashed into my head. I went dizzy and limp.  
Several arms lifted my body and carried me away. 

Action

“Staric! Someone wants to see you!” Alphys yelled, her mouth stuffed with noodles. I glanced over at Mettaton. He released me from his firm hug, and I rose from the plush couch.  
Sure enough, two men dressed in military uniforms were waiting outside the lab. They looked rather formal, and lacked the distinct ruggedness most soldiers had.  
“Are you Staric?” one asked.  
“Yes, sir.” I said with a curt nod.  
“Boy, do we have news for you. We would like to thank you for your service in stopping the fallen human’s genocide.”  
Alphys wagged her tail excitedly.  
“Aw, thanks. But you gotta give credit to Alphys and Metta too.” I said, spreading my wings wide. I felt warm with pride.  
“Yes, we’re visiting them later. But we’re congratulating you first.” the taller man said, gesturing to the armored car behind him. It was sharp and black, like fresh obsidian. “We’re going to bring you up to our headquarters for a unique employment opportunity.”  
Alphys smiled, showing her buck teeth. “I’m p-p-proud of you!” she said. “This could be a life changer.”  
“I know, but...fighting again…” I whispered, staring down. Mental images swirled in the dirt at my feet: a human coated in dust, grinning sadistically; a frying pan slamming into my chassis and breaking it; my wings burning as I fell from the sky. Tears stabbed my eyes like hot daggers. I rubbed them away with my wing’s claw-like thumb.  
“You don’t have to if it scares you.” Alphys reassured me, placing her scaly hand on my arm cannon. “But I won’t stop you if you want to give it a chance.”  
I shifted nervously, my wings rustling. “Well, I guess I could come and hear what they have to offer.”  
“Okay!” Alphys chirped, perking up. “Just let me go grab some things, I’ll come along-”  
“It doesn’t work like that, m’am.” said the taller man. “This is an individual meeting. Only she can come along.”  
Alphys stopped in her tracks, deflating like a week old balloon. “Oh…”  
“Additionally, m’am, we’ll need you to disable her weapons systems.” the second soldier added. “It’s a standard safety protocol.”  
Alphys nodded. “Just gimme a sec.”  
She pressed a small button on my arm cannon. It projected a holographic screen into the air. She typed in a complicated sequence of characters, and a message displayed itself, informing us that safety mode was activated.  
“There. You should be good to go.” she said, giving me a disarming thumbs up.  
“See you later!” I said, hugging her briefly.  
The men led me to the car. My draconic wings barely fit in the backseat. I shuffled, tucking them closer against my sides. About ten minutes into the drive, one of the men spoke up about it.  
“Are your wings comfortable?”  
“It’s okay.” I muttered.  
“Well, they won’t be anymore.” he said, whipping out a vice-like tool from under his seat. The driver pulled over to hold me down as his colleague placed the tool over where my wing attached to my shoulder blades. I aimed with my arm cannon, but its blaster gave only un unsatisfying click. My mouth went dry as the tool clamped down hard, crushing my metallic bones. I screeched, beating my uninjured wing. He moved the device to the finger-like tip and broke it there, too.  
“We can’t risk you flying away.” he said as he released the vice.

Starclassic

Head full of fantasies and memes, I skipped down the sidewalk. I had only a few minutes left until I got home from my walk. I wanted to be home, because home was where the food was. I couldn’t wait to eat something. I’d only had lunch a couple hours beforehand, but it was the way of the robotic teenager to constantly snack.  
I stopped in front of a bright orange detour sign. It pointed away from the street that normally led to my house. Additionally, orange cones blocked my path. It seemed I’d have to go around.  
“Wack. I feel personally attacked.” I said, turning down the new corner.  
Had I seen that street before? It certainly wasn’t the right way; the road was a dead end. I was about to turn around, grumbling about my situation. It looked like I was tacking on another ten minutes to my walk. Then, someone called out.  
“Help!” the voice shouted.  
I froze. “Who is it?”  
“Please, please help me!” they repeated, their voice trembling.  
I hesitantly inched forward, digging into my pocket for my phone. I was ready to call the police, the fire department, or maybe an ambulance. My town was rather sketchy at times, so I was not surprised if I needed all three all at once. Whoever yelled was not in sight; the street was empty, save for a black car.  
Something felt off. I whipped my phone out, flipping it open. As soon as I motioned to dial 911, it burst out of my black gloved hand with a bang. I screamed, falling back. The metal that served as my tailbone hit the pavement hard. The phone clattered beside me, an utter wreck. A bullet hole marked its screen.  
Several men in army camouflage flooded the street. Hands gripped my every joint. Tears streamed down my face as I was forced to the ground.  
“This was an easy catch for us, and it’ll be easy for you if you don’t move.” a gruff voice said as the cold metal barrel of a gun was pushed against my soul.

Starouter

I sat at the Outerground’s horizon, letting my legs hang over the cracked dirt edge. I held on tight so as to avoid floating away. The Earth spun below this chunk of land, auroras dancing across its atmosphere. Even though I sat so close to the abyss, I felt no fear. The Barrier swaddled the Outerground, holding in the air and the people protectively.  
Luckily for me, this space island didn’t create much gravity. This land lifted from the Earth by ancient mages was barely massive enough to hold anything to the ground. As we orbited the earth, in fact, the alien landscape rotated. There has never been s sense of up in the Outerground.  
I nudged against the soil and soared off the edge. I placed my hand on the Barrier my soul almost had been reaped to sustain. This powerful shield was both monsterkind’s prison and our only hope. With it, we were trapped; without it, we’d be sucked into the vacuum of space. To fuel the Barrier and keep it from breaking, Asgore needed human souls. Humans in this remote area were rare, but the Barrier had a lure similar to the Bermuda triangle, causing even the most carefully planned spaceship routes to veer off course. Still, when I’d been pulled into this rpg world, he set his sights on mine. I remember Undyne plunging her spear into my chest, and her leaping back as my ghostly new form crawled from my corpse. The magic I gained frm passing through the barrier condemned me to a life beyond my body. Alphys was kind enough to give me a new one.  
A strong tug jerked me out of my thoughts.  
“Hey” I yelled, strengthening my grip on the ground. I was pulled again, my hands snapping away. I reached again, but this time could only manage to snag onto a few clumps of grass.  
“Help!” I screeched. My magic sparked to life between my hands, forming a glowing chain that bit into the dirt. I grabbed on, metallic arms tensing as I fought against the mysterious pull. The lime green chain was pulled taught. The ground it gripped cracked slowly,a chunk threatening to rip out. I prayed that it would hold.  
I looked over my shoulder to see a huge magnet, like the kind used in scrap yards to lift cars, hanging from a ship  
“Turn it off! Turn it off!” I yelled, my rubber vocal cords cracking. The magnetic force made my mechanics jerk and spasm. My hands shook violently until I lost grip of the chain. I lost control and flew into space.

Startomb  
Forest.  
Yes  
Yes  
RUN CHASE JUMP  
Leaf! Leaf!  
SQUIRREL  
Chasechasechasejumpchasechasejumpjumprunrunleapchasetiredtireedchaserunjumpleaprunchase  
Squirrel gone…  
TH͢O̢̢U̴G̷H҉T̷̸S͢GǪN̵E̵MI̸N̛͟D͡S͏C̸R͘͞A҉̡͘MB̢͝҉L̴̨͟E͜D҉LI̵͞Q͏̴͘Ư͝I̢̕͡Ḑ͠O҉F̢͟͠S̕̕O̵͘͠UL̷҉AŅ̵͟D҉B̵̕O̷̢D͏Y̴͏TH͢O̢̢U̴G̷H҉T̷̸S͢GǪN̵E̵MI̸  
Leaf again  
No more squirrel  
Hungry Hungry  
Crawl back home  
Doc has ramen  
Stop. Sit. Leaf pile soft. Patch of sunlight warm.  
Snooze now...hungry can wait…  
Bird chirp.  
Bird loud  
Bird needs to shut up  
CLICK CLICK HISSSSSSSSS…..  
Bird stop. Bird is lucky  
Try to sleep  
Almost there  
Mind is quiet  
But…  
Ļ͘I̛̕Q̧̢U͘͢I͝D͏͠O̷̡͜F͝S̶͠O͢͠U̶҉L̕A̧N͡D̶B̷͢O̕DY̕͞HE̸L҉̨͡PM̶E͠͞I͞'̨͏M̸MĘ͢L̸̸̕T̸͢͏I̢͢NĢE͢M̨͏O͟R̴IE̷̛S̢͡OA͘N̶I̸T̢Y͠I҉U̕S̕E̵D̷҉T̨̡͜O҉B̶E̴̕I̡ƯS̵͏͞Ę͡D̕T͜͟O͢B̷̨E͏IUE̢S̷̡E̷D͞͠T͏OB̨͢E͏͞  
Thoughts loud  
Hands over head  
please be quiet...  
please go away...  
Don’t remind me  
I died  
I melted  
I’m ghost  
An animal  
Thoughts left  
Soul not made to be a brain  
Doctor not care  
Doctor just feeds me  
Hungry hungry

 

Leaf crunching  
Men voices  
“There she is.”  
I stand up  
Who is there?  
Men in green  
They smell funny  
More scared than hungry  
Run Run Run on all fours  
Bullet rips through me  
Barely feel it  
Run Run Run  
Men are cursing  
I make some sounds  
ClICK CLICK SCREECH!  
Men are closer  
Another loud bang  
Bullet misses  
Getting tired….  
Men fast but I’m faster  
“Try using the holy water.”  
Bottle flies at me  
CRACK  
Water splashes…  
burned…  
burned… 

burned…  
“It’s not working. Try the salt.”  
White powder flies at me  
BURNED BURNED BURNED  
Ghost flesh sizzles black  
Hissss….  
I can’t run  
It burns…  
I fall  
“Finally…”  
Now…  
Darkness.  
I’m taken.

 

Mafia

“So you’re saying that these military men are causing trouble?” I asked, crossing my arms.  
Mettaton nodded, his fedora darkening his eyes. “They’ve been looking for you, and raising hell while they’re at it.”  
I glanced out the window at the quaint little house across the street. Its creamy white front door was riddled with bullet marks. The military men had stormed it earlier under the idea that I was inside.  
“Were they from the human or monster gang?” I asked with a slight snarl of disgust.  
Mettaton thought a moment. “Neither, but they still were humans.”  
I scoffed. I’d once been a human myself, but after being accepted by the monster mafia,I’d come to dislike them. Humans only ever wanted to meddle with innocent monsters. Sure, they were many kind humans, and I hated to lump an entire race into one category, but even the kindest of them all turned  
“You better lay low until this blows over.” Mettaton said. He drew the blinds shut with a sudden snap. The room darkened. “But until then,” he continued, “stay armed at all times. Be ready for a skirmish.”  
“I would much prefer to stay legged, thank you.” I said, pulling up my knee-length skirt to reveal the holsters strapped to my thighs. Cradled in each was a small, but very dangerous gun.  
“Hmm, clever,” he remarked, “but don’t forget to have one of these.” The robot pulled a small knife out of his pocket and placed it in my hand. Tied to the handle was a large, rosy bow.  
“What’s the bow for? Trying to make murder cute?” I asked, smirking. Without a word, he took it from me and tucked it into my beaded headband gingerly.  
I tensed at his touch. “Oh.”  
“Stay safe, Starry.” he said over his shoulder as he sauntered off, leaving my alone with nothing but my heartbeat.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
For the third time that day, I checked all my doors to make sure they were locked and bolted. My front door had six locks, but I only kept three locked. My reasoning was that if someone tried to undo them all, they’d always unwittingly be relocking some of them. I’d been paranoid for the last week about the whole military-men thing. It was difficult to lay low, considering I was a six foot tall robot, so I avoided leaving the safety of my house.  
Although, I reasoned, won’t suddenly becoming a shut-in cause more suspicion than it avoids? And I do need some more milk and bread….  
It was decided. Fully armed, I was going to walk down to the grocer’s and get a few things. I’d walk in broad daylight, and only down the busiest streets. Maybe I could even stop by Mettaton’s place and say hello!  
I wrote up a list of some things I needed to pick up, grabbed a few dollars and went out the door. I can’t say that I wasn’t frightened as I briskly walked down the streets. Complete strangers with smiling faces seemed like they were hiding something beneath their friendly expressions.  
I dashed the rest of the way to the grocer’s and quickly bought the things I needed. I must’ve looked so ridiculous; in my haste I fumbled and nearly dropped everything I picked up. What a terrible case of the heebie-jeebies it was!  
It was a miracle that I managed to leave the store without throwing a fit. I forced myself to maintain my composure as I strolled out, standing up straight and smiling. Everything needed to go right. I couldn’t draw attention to myself. Couldn’t afford it.  
“M’am, ma’am!” a small child’s voice called out. I felt a small tug on my skirt. A young boy, his face stained with tears, gazed up at me.  
“Yes, michild?” I said. I crouched down to reach his level. I normally had no trust for humans, but he was just a child. He still had innocence.  
“Have you seen a woman come by wearing a blue apron?” he asked.  
“No, why?” I asked in return.  
“I’m looking for my mom. She’s wearing a blue apron.” He rubbed his eyes with one brown sleeve.  
“Oh, well…” I started, “...uh, really? Well…”  
How sure could I be that this wasn’t some sort of trap? I couldn’t be. But I couldn’t risk the other option; that this little boy really needed my help.  
“Come on, I’ll help you look, michild.” I sighed, grabbing his tiny hand. His wet eyes lit up, and he dragged me down the street.  
“I think I saw her go this way!” he explained.  
……………………………………………………………………………………………………....  
I flagged down every stranger I saw to grill them about what they had seen. Nobody seemed to run into a woman in a blue apron, much ot the boy’s disappointment.  
Defeated, I looked him straight in the eyes. “We have only one more thing we can try, short of bringing you to the police. Can you please show me the way to your house?”  
The boy nodded, and I pinched his cheek. His smile was too precious!  
“Actually, m’am, we’re pretty close!” he chirped, bouncing up and down. “Just follow me!”  
I walked quickly to keep up with the little bundle of energy. He pulled me down a street I didn’t recognize.  
My heart quickened. “Are you sure this is the way?”  
“Yeah, yeah! Isn’t it so swell that I remember? I think I’m getting just as smart as Mommy!” he said proudly. He pointed to a yellow house at the end of the skinny trail. “See, see? That’s it over there!”  
I knocked on the door, my other hand hovering over my thigh. If anything looked wrong, I could easily snatch with my weapon.  
The door clicked open. On the other side stood a monster: a dog-like woman with a curly cream coat, and a blue apron wrapped around her waist.  
“Mommy!” the boy cried, rushing towards the woman and hugging her. Her tail wagged.  
“Ben!” she barked, squeezing him close. She looked up from her child at me. “Did you find him? My husband and I were worried sick! What do you say, Ben?”  
The boy grabbed my hand and shook it. “Thank you so much, m’am!” As he pulled his hand away, my glove came off. He clutched it and stared at my jointed mechanical hand, then gazed up at me in amazement.  
“You’re made of metal? Neat!” he said, handing me my glove. I slipped it on and took a step back.  
“Glad I could help!” I said as I walked away down the lonely little trail.  
……………………………………………………………………………………………....  
I was out late than I wanted, but I was too happy over Ben’s return to be nervous. Adorable little Ben, and his dog mother too! How queer! He must be adopted, or perhaps the monster woman was his stepmother. Either way, the reunion was charming. At the very least, it was not a trap. The way he had lead me down an unfamiliar road had made me suspicious.  
Do I know the way home from here?  
I stopped dead in my tracks.  
Surely it’s this way! I thought as I turned the corner. I stumbled into an identical street, indistinguishable from the previous one. Or maybe, it was the same one.  
“Are you lost, lady?”  
I turned around to see a tall man dressed in a suit. HIs jacket was grey, but a bit of camouflage fabric poked out of his collar.  
A military man!  
“No, no I’m fine. Just took a wrong turn, is all.” I said, reaching for my holster. In a flash, I pulled out a gun and aimed it at the man. Holding the weapon gave me a tremendous rush of powerful relief.  
He pulled out a weapon of his own. It seemed to be a gun, but it had extra gadgets attached, making it look futuristic.  
“Put the weapon down!” he growled.  
I weighed my options. Either I could put my gun down and be left unarmed, or shoot and hope I hit him first. Swallowing hard, I crouched and placed my gun on the ground.  
He cold barrel of his weapon was thrust against my soul core.  
“The other one, too.” he commanded.  
Hesitantly, I gave up the second gun: my only hope.

 

Starlust

Beep, beep. I rolled down the street, lights flashing and speakers blaring. Down at the theatre was a live Mettaton performance scheduled for noon. The sparling pink tickets were gripped tightly in my hand. My wheels turned quickly, pushing me towards my destination at breakneck speed.  
A long line curled around the street leading to the theatre. It was a bit odd, considering his performances were usually met with an empty audience. Even from my distance, I could see the color-changing neon lights that hugged the building’s walls. Its exterior was covered in posters of Mettaton as high as the theatre itself. The most prominent image, one of Mettaton hugging a teddy bear, was defaced with badly spelled graffiti commenting about his ass. I briefly wondered how the vandal even got up to that height.  
I took my place at the end of the line. The couple in front of me wee starting to leav. After several more followed suit, I flagged down a Moldbygg dressed in fluorescent lingerie.  
“Hey, ya know what’s going on, B? Why’re people leaving?” I asked.  
“Oh, haven’t you heard, chick?” the monster said in a gurgling vice. “Mettaton’s gone MIA. The show is cancelled.”  
They promptly slid away, leaving a wet trail of slime behind them.  
“Aw, fuck.” I sighed.  
I’d look forward to seeing my idol perform live. Dejected, I rolled away.  
……………………………………………………………………………………………....

I ended up at Napstablook’s snail farm, sitting amongst the adorable mollusks with my wheels retracted. One started to crawl up my side.  
“I is a sad.” I whispered to the snail. “I really was looking forward to the show.”  
The snail turned around and started heading back down my side. Gently, I picked it up and stroked its shell.It pulled its slimy little head back in. I placed the critter back down on the ground.  
“How easy you got it, smol bud.” I cooed. “You don’t know you’re in a game. No one does.”  
For months, I’d been trapped in a hentai game called Underlust. You played as an eighteen year old human named Frisk as they traveled throughout the underground, avoiding be captured by the monsters who wanted to send you to the Royal Harem. As you encountered the various monsters, you could either sleep with them or friendzone them. Your choices determined the ending. As a result of the game being x-rated, most of the characters were rather kinky. Mettaton was the exception.  
You see, when Toby Fox (aka the Alluring Dog) made the game, he wanted a character who had a traumatic past. He also wanted to make a character who was hard to seduce, to keep the player on their toes. Unfortunately for most of the fans, he put those traits into one character. The product was Mettaton, a character who many players disliked for being a “prude”, as one disgruntled reviewer put it.  
Not me, not at all. I found his innocence endearing, and developed a crush almost instantly. All I could think about was playing with his bowtie or kissing him on the nose...amongst other things.  
Okay, how could I not? As a flower I once knew put it, ‘In this world, it’s fuck or be fucked.’  
I was snapped out of my thoughts by the sound of a snail meowing loudly. Apparently, fictional snails can do that. It cried out again, even louder than before.  
“What’s bothering you? Feeling hungry?” I asked.  
The mollusk flat out screamed.  
“You have no reason to be afraid.” I assured it.  
“Oh, he does.” a voice said from behind me. Something cold pressed against my back. I turned to see a man in camouflage thrusting a gun against me.  
“Get up and come along. If you don’t, I’ll shoot.” he demanded.


End file.
